Return to her employer

“The carrier on platform nine goes to… <<GREENVILLE>>. Please mind the gap and ensure that you keep your arms and legs clear of the closing doors.” The obnoxiously loud automated station announcement booms across the platform.

Clarissa slouches back in her seat, sipping on her soft drink which her new goon friend had so graciously paid for. That and a brand-new leather jacket which is currently being worn over the top of Clarissa’s jumpsuit in an attempt to hide her buxom figure. So far it seems to be working. The whooshing of private carriers above her draws her gaze. Up to the dazzling skyscrapers which house the rich, corporate slaves who decided to build their world on top of the poor. These skyscrapers are markedly different to the megabuildings which house many of the poor residents of the city. These are meticulously designed and needlessly opulent. For the rich it’s entirely possible to live your entire life without ever actually touching the ground. Food, supplies, and other amenities are brought to the buildings by the poor workers belong, and then shuttled up to the underappreciative residents. The private carriers allow the rich to shuttle from skyscraper to skyscraper without ever needing to mingle with the people below. Occasionally a megacarrier can be heard sailing through the skies. A private carrier so large that it almost resembles a luxury yacht.

The sound of the civilian carrier clanging into the side of the platform snaps Clarissa out of her daydream and back to reality. The sound of the thrusters rattle inside of their metal housings as they struggle against gravity. A loud ding can soon be heard followed by the doors opening. A herd of drowsy commuters stumble outwards, trudging towards the exit of the platform after a long day of work. Clarissa slips on board, being mindful of the gap which marks a multi-story fall towards certain **** for careless commuters. As her backside hits the seat, the doors clunk shut and the carrier pulls away from the station once more. From her vantage point in the carrier she’s able to look out over the poor suburbs of the city. Fifty percent of which seems to have been hijacked for industrial buildings to provide power and supplies for the enormous city.

It only takes a few minutes for the carrier to reach the Greenville platform and only a handful of people exit it. Greenville is hardly renowned for being a bustling place. Instead it’s more well known for it’s criminal track record. Various **** trafficking operations, gangs, and other illegal operations are conducted out of the various warehouses and old buildings spread throughout the district, just outside of the reach of the law, though the police hardly try to enforce the law this far out. Instead law enforcement agencies tend to protect the rich. Those able to provide a little extra for their services rather than the poor residents in the further regions of the city.

After a brief ten minute walk, Clarissa finds herself in front of a familiar old building. Half of it has been converted into a club, the other half has been used as a safe haven for mercenaries and their employers to arrange contracts. Thankfully there’s a side entrance which Clarissa is able to use to avoid the regular drunk idiots who can’t help but get a little bit too handsy with her. After a quick walk to the top of the staircase, Clarissa finds herself in front of Dean’s office. The man who’s been organizing her contracts for the past month.

Dean is a very imposing man. Tall, muscular, yet impeccably well dressed. He’s currently wearing a long sleeve, white, button up shirt along with a blue tie. His hair is black with grey speckles throughout and he appears to just be approaching middle age. He glances up over his monitor as Clarissa enters.

“Got into a scrap this time, eh?” He asks, spinning the monitor around to show Clarissa the face of the goon who she’d incapacitated during the previous contract.

Clarissa sighs. These contracts are supposed to be completely undetected, but it’s well known that in the mercenary business that things often go wrong.

“Things went wrong, he couldn’t shut his mouth, and he’s an asshole with a punch-able face. Malware got uploaded undetected and it’ll take ‘em months to get it out.” She replies, helping herself to the seat across from Dean.

He nods for a few moments before tapping away on his computer. Immediately after he hits the enter key, Clarissa’s phone pings signifying the successful transfer of the $4000 dollars which had been agreed on. A wave of relief washes over her as she checks the notification. The tension that she’d been carrying subconsciously ever since she accepted the contract being allowed to just ebb away.

“Not bad kid. Making a name for yourself. In fact… Got a few different offers come your way.” Dean says, bringing her attention away from her phone and back to his computer monitors. “Now, keep in mind these are going to be a LOT tougher than the stuff we’ve had before, so think it all through. Whichever ones you don’t pick I’ll reallocate to someone else.”

Dean taps a few keys on his computer and brings up each file one after the other. The first contract made Clarissa audibly gasp as she sees the pure scale of it, as well as the reward.

“Envision has reportedly been working on brand new tech that they’re trying to keep under wraps. Can’t tell you the clients name, but a rival wants that tech to be not so secret anymore. You know how it goes, corporate bullshit. Not too different to the last gig. Get in, don’t get seen, download the files, send back to me. Then I’ll relay it back to our lucrative friends and you’ll get your cut.” Dean says before clicking over to the next file.

“Next one you get to play detective a bit. New club, shady stories, concerned patrons. This one comes straight from the pigs surprisingly. Seems they can’t be fucked to scope it out themselves, so you get the gig. Should go without saying but I’d recommend not drinking, eating, or injecting anything while you’re there. Rumours of chicks going in as good little prudes, only for their friends to find them a day later working a pole. Don’t know how the fuck that happens, so just be careful.” He says, studying Clarissa’s face for a few more moments before adding. “And no snorting anything either.”

“Taking all the fun out of it!” Clarissa grins before nodding. “Good points. Noted. And the last one?”

“This one… This one’s fucking weird. This one comes from a corporate cunt from up top who’s got a missing daughter. Seems to think she’s gone missing around here and for some reason he thinks you’ll have a good lead at this warehouse here. Wish I could tell you more, but that’s literally everything I got out of it. I’m thinking probably traffickers but something about this… If you don’t take this then I’m probably gonna just tell him we don’t have anyone to do it.”

“You growing a heart or something all of a sudden? That’s almost sweet!” Clarissa laughs, a little surprised by his concern.

“Yeah, yeah, fuck off. Good mercs are hard to replace. Can’t have you or anyone else getting trafficked or organ harvested because of shit intel. So! What’s it gonna be?”